


You Should Reconsider

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: McHanzo [26]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protectiveness, Rescue, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Hanzo thought that Talon had lost interest in their attempts to recruit him. It turns out he was wrong, and that its a very dangerous choice to refuse Akande's offer.





	You Should Reconsider

   Hanzo shivered, wishing that he had accepted the proffered jacket earlier even if it had risked affecting his aim, not that he would ever admit that aloud. Not after McCree’s not so subtle suggestions about ways to warm him up, cheeks pinking at the memory of it, amazed that the rest of their team had been able to mask their amusement so well. Rubbing his hands up his arms he shook his head, knowing that once the fight started the cold would be the last thing on his mind, and his aim would need to be spot on, instead focusing on maintaining his balance on the narrow ledge as he shifted into a more comfortable position. His lips quirked as he imaged what McCree would have to say about that, his partner unable to understand how he could willingly sit for hours at a time on tiny perches just waiting for something to move. The first time McCree had asked, he had brushed it off, not wanting to admit just how precious those quiet times had been when he was on the run, how much he had needed that chance to hide away and catch his breath, especially after all the times he had been unable to stop even for half an hour because of being pursuit.

   His reasons were different now, his work and these perches had taken on a new meaning. A new purpose. He was no longer on the run, no longer in need of a place to hide away or struggling to survive day by day. Instead he had something to protect, something to fight for. Someone, his mind corrected, and he found his eyes darting to where McCree had just ducked down behind a stack of packing crates and he was about to comment on the fact that he could still see the ridiculous cowboy hat when Angela’s voice came over the comm.

_“I think I heard something.”_

_“Hanzo? Can you see anything?”_ Winston demanded.

   Hanzo scolded himself, it had been a long time since he had allowed himself to get distracted whilst on a mission, and yet here he was watching McCree rather than their surroundings. Relieved that he was too high for them to see the flustered expression on his face, he turned his attention to the rest of the shipping yard, eyes drifting over the tankers at the docks, rising and falling steadily with the waves. Tracer had already cleared all of them, and there was no sign that anything had changed, so his gaze swept back, wary of the narrow passages between the piles of shipping crates, wishing once again that they could have got the payload when it had first arrived rather than waiting for it to be moved to the warehouse at the far end of the docks. There had been less approaches to cover, and less chance of the team getting surrounded, but the ship had been greeted by a media circus, everyone curious about the new mechs that were being delivered and it had been impossible for them to approach let along seize control of it.

   He was about to declare it all clear when something caught his attention. It had only been the slightest flicker of movement, something that could easily have been dismissed as a gull flying past or one of the tarpaulins covering some of the crates flapping in the wind, but something told him it wasn’t. He already had an arrow notched to his string even before he made out the first figure appearing between the shipping crates on the right-hand side of the warehouse, grip tightening as it was followed by another and another, and even at this distance he could make out the familiar black uniform and the weapons they were grasping. _Talon_. He scowled, knowing that they had been hoping to have more time to stabilize the payload, but it seemed like look was not on their side. “There is movement around the west side of the warehouse,” he reported, cursing a second later when he caught more movement, this time on the other side and an uneasy feeling curled in the pit of his stomach as he added tersely. “And the east.”

 _“I’ll get the west side.”_ Tracer was the first to reply, a line of blue indicating that she was already moving into position. _“Hanzo?”_

“I’ll cover the east.” It was a move that they had practiced to perfection in the training suite, Tracer decimating one flank whilst he held the other, leaving the rest of the team free to continue with the main part of the mission. It had saved them on their last mission and he hoped that it would serve again, but he couldn’t help but glance around as the uneasiness he was feeling intensified. Something was missing. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and he wasn’t about to bother the team with unfounded concerns, but he couldn’t help but add. “You might want to be quick about this.”

 _“Someone’s in a hurry,”_ McCree interjected, humour audible in his voice despite the deteriorating situation and Hanzo knew that if he was close enough to see his partner’s face, then he would be grinning and as relaxed as he would be at home on the base. When they’d first met Hanzo had been fooled by the act, seeing only the almost clownish persona McCree liked to portray. It hadn’t taken him long to be proved wrong, and he knew that behind the easy grin would be a hint of steel, and that even as they joked, McCree would be checking his gun and scanning his surroundings. It was that knowledge that helped ease the ball of uneasiness in his stomach, and whilst his gaze never wavered from the Talon Agents that were creeping ever closer, he couldn’t help but joke back.

“You promised me dinner.” It was only a partial jest, as they had been about to go on leave for a weekend, well-earned after almost back to back missions for the past few months, but the tip-off about Talon’s movements had put a swift end to that.

 _“After the show,”_ McCree promised, a softness to his voice that told Hanzo that he knew exactly where his thoughts had gone, and that he was equally disappointed. Hanzo didn’t have chance to savour the warmth that had blossomed at the reassurance, spying the shadow that had moved behind his partner and losing his arrow at once, hearing the cry and thud that followed through the communicator, followed by a quiet appreciative whistle. “ _Nice shot.”_

“Focus.”

 _“Stay safe.”_ It was the closest they would allow themselves to saying, ‘I love you’ in the field outside of life and death situations, and as always Hanzo tucked it away, a talisman against the battle to come. The simple words giving him a reason to fight, and a reason to make sure that he made it home.

   There was no chance for them to talk after that, Winston sternly reminding them to stay focused and that they had to make sure that the payload didn’t fall into Talon’s hands. As if they’d needed the reminder, Hanzo thought, but he didn’t comment, instead only waiting long enough to see the blur of Tracer’s movements as she descended on the agents attempting to flank them before he darted up to a higher perch, losing a sonic arrow and a scatter arrow in close succession. The sudden onslaught catching his own targets by surprise, several going down, whether dead or just out of the fight for now he couldn’t be sure and by the time they had regrouped he had moved to a different perch and was raining shot after shot down on them. It wouldn’t hold them forever, but it would slow them down and reduce the numbers that McCree and the others would inevitably end up fighting.

**

Something was wrong.

   Hanzo had almost lost himself in the flow of the battle, the repetitive action of notching an arrow and choosing his target as familiar to him as breathing, each shot meeting its mark. He had a peripheral awareness of where the rest of the team were, Tracer’s blue still visible from the corner of his eye, the others already inside the warehouse and trying to get the payload ready to move. He didn’t let himself check on McCree. It had been harder at the beginning, when this thing between them was tentative and new, he had been afraid to look away for fear it would be snatched out from under him. Now, although there was also a lurking trace of that fear here he trusted McCree not to get himself killed, not on a mission like this, and not without him by his side.

   He was just moving to a fresh perch, still firing as he moved, knowing that the moment he let up with the covering fire the tide could turn. However, he had barely made it onto the next rooftop when he spied the distinctive red laser of Widowmaker’s laser, his heart jumping into his throat as he realised it was trained on him, flinging himself to the side and hissing as he realised he’d moved a fraction too late, the bullet winging him. His landing was clumsy, his world narrowing to the pain in his arm for a moment. It didn’t take him long to shake it off, but by the time he had there was shouts and curses from below and when he risked a glance he could see that the Talon agents had got through the choke point he had been holding and he cursed, pushing the pain away as he lifted his bow. He had barely lifted it halfway when the red light was back, forcing him to retreat, and it seemed that no matter where he went it followed and yet despite his best efforts he couldn’t get a lock on the woman.

   He was being driven back, away from the warehouse. Away from his team. He knew it and yet every time he tried to work his way back across the rooftop, a warning shot would ring out, pinning him down and forcing him back. _Why?_ As much as he disliked Widowmaker he could recognise her skill, and he knew that she could have killed him with that first shot and had instead decided to wound him, he just didn’t understand why. Since their encounter when he had refused her offer to re-join Talon she had shown no hesitation in fighting him, and the change unnerved him.

   Another shot pinged off the roof just by his hand, forcing him to drop down onto the next bit, ducking down as he tried to catch his breath and work out how to end this game of cat and mouse, without ending up the mouse.

 _“Hanzo? Where are you?”_ The voice crackling to life in his ear startled him, before relief engulfed him at the familiar sound of his partner’s voice. He didn’t miss the gunfire he could hear in the background, or the slight breathlessness that indicated McCree was fighting, instead focusing on the fact that he was okay despite Hanzo being forced back, removing their covering fire. _“Hanzo?”_ He jolted at the shout, realising that he hadn’t answered, glancing around to make sure that Widowmaker’s gun wasn’t trained on him again before risking a response.

“I…”

   The words died, unspoken as there was a deafening roar, followed by the rooftop shaking violently beneath his feet. The impact sent him stumbling out of his hiding place and his breath caught as he took in the cracks running through the roof now, eyes darting to the figure rising in the middle of the destruction and feeling his breath catch in his throat.

He knew this man.

   Akande Ogundimu. Doomfist. The reason why Overwatch had been running itself ragged for the last few months, as Talon had only grown more confident and more public after he had re-joined them, no longer content to operate in the shadows. The man who had almost killed his brother when he had been captured. The man that Winston had warned them not to try and fight alone.

   Fear crept up his spine. This man was dangerous. Talon itself was dangerous, but it was a different kind of threat, one that came from numbers and resources. Akande had sought him out alone and Hanzo knew from a brief glance that it wasn’t a case of bravado, or over confidence. There was silent menace in his movements as he moved forward, not a single breath or step wasted, completely focused. A predator stalking its prey. Hanzo forced himself to straighten, meeting the man’s gaze evenly and praying that none of his trepidation was showing in his expression as he stated evenly.

“Doomfist.”

“Hanzo.” Hanzo tensed, something tugging at his memory at the way the man had said his name, but when he tried to grasp it, it fled and he scowled. Logically he knew that Talon could have informed Doomfist about who he was, and who he had been, after all they had spent enough time hounding him to join them, but something told him that the familiarity in the address when beyond that and it unnerved him, fingers tightening on his bow. “You should consider joining us, I believe that we can see eye to eye on many matters.” Hanzo swallowed back the urge to laugh at the words, wondering if Widowmaker had mentioned her own failed attempts to recruit him. However, studying Akande he decided that it probably wouldn’t have thwarted this attempt, there was something in the way he had phrased it and, in the way,, he was watching Hanzo, that told Hanzo that he wasn’t expecting anything but a positive response.

“I would have little to gain from such an arrangement.” In the past he might have agreed, a thought that left a bitter taste on his mouth, as anything that reminded him of his youth tended too. Back then he had been blind, blinkered by the clan and their expectations and he would have seized anything that would have given him power, that would have made him stand out. That would have made his family proud. Now though…now, the thought of such an arrangement had him taking a step back, feeling his dragons beginning to writhe beneath his skin in response to his agitation. Now, he had more to lose than could ever be gained, his thoughts straying to his team fighting below, to McCree who had shouted his name so desperately a couple of moments ago and to his brother currently resting up at base after a mission had left him in need of extensive repairs.

“You…” _Should reconsider_ , Hanzo knew what Akande was about to say, could hear the command and the confidence in the man’s voice and his lips drew back in a snarl. He had sworn to himself the night he had fled that he would never take orders like that again, promised himself that he would never be that man again, and yet Akande was threatening all of that. Hanzo didn’t remember notching the arrow or drawing back the bow. All he could focus on was the need to protect. To escape. To return home. McCree’s soft ‘stay safe’ echoing beneath the roar of the dragons as he unleashed them.

“RYUU GA WAGA TEKI WO KURAU.”

   He knew that it wasn’t going to be as simple as that. Unable to forget the respect, the hint of fear in Genji’s voice when he had described his own fight with this man, yet still he was caught by surprise by the sight of Akande, gauntlet glowing, springing out of the path of the dragons.

His surprise cost him.

    Only long years of practice allowing him to bring his bow up just in time to block the blow, but it did little to lessen the impact and he found himself skidding backwards. He wasn’t being given chance to recover, blow after blow coming his way. It had been a long time since he had fought like this, his stomach clenching unpleasantly as he realised that the last time had been when he had seen Genji for the first time in Hanamura. Still the skills were ingrained in him, and he found himself moving to block the attacks as best he could, wincing as his bow creaked and shuddered with each blow, knowing that it wouldn’t last long under this pressure.

    However, it didn’t take long for him to realise that the bow was the least of his concerns as every attempt he made to change the tide of the battle, moves that had been drilled into him as a child and seen him through far more fights than he cared to think about were being blocked with frightening ease. He knew that Akande was a trained fighter, Winston had made sure they all read what information they had on the man, but this was something more than that. Something more than a skill at reading body language, because that was an ability that Hanzo too had been forced to hone and yet it wasn’t helping him now, a point driven home as he was slammed into a wall by the next blow. Something must have shown in his expression, because Akande grinned, taking advantage of his stunned state to lean in, fingers brushing Hanzo’s cheek in a mocking imitation of tenderness.

“I know you, Hanzo.”

“No.” Those words were enough for Hanzo to shake off the blow, eyes narrow as he stared up at Akande the sense of familiarity stronger than ever as they stared at one another. He knew this man, he was sure of it, the realisation leaving a sinking feeling in his stomach, even as he added harshly. “You knew me.” Whoever, or whatever this man had been to him in the past, that Hanzo was gone. Killed the same night that he had taken his sword to his brother.

   Finally, he saw a flash of something else in the dark eyes. Fury. It was an emotion he recognised all too well, remembering how it had filled him, blinding him, deafening him all those years ago until he had come back to himself covered in blood and with Genji lying broken at his feet. Akande’s confidence had been dangerous enough, this was worse and Hanzo had nowhere to go, the man was already too close, his arm aching fiercely now, exhaustion gripping him. It didn’t stop him from trying to block the attack when it came, already knowing it was fruitless before the bow was ripped from his hands and flung aside. He had no chance to see if it was in one piece, because the hand that had been touching his face a moment ago was now around his neck, strong fingers bearing down. “This was not the path I wanted to take.” Despite the storm in his eyes, Akande’s voice was calm and almost conversational. “If you reconsider, there is still a way forward.”

   Hanzo didn’t need to read between the lines to know that the offer had changed, and even as he clawed at the hand around his neck he shook his head. “N-No.” It was hard to force the word out, the sound weak to his own ears, but it was enough. _Never. I won’t lose them, even if_ … He gasped, the grip around his neck tightening, a roaring sound flooding his ears as he struggled to breathe, his attempts to escape becoming desperate, although he might as well have been tickling the man for all the effect he was having. He thought that was going to be it, the world beginning to fade out around him, his head pulsating with pain as he began to sink down into the encroaching darkness. _I’m sorry Jesse..._

“I will not make it that easy on you.” The words sounded as though they were coming from a great distance, slowly sinking towards him, and before he could even begin to comprehend their meaning he was being flung against the wall. The grip on his neck loosening, allowing him to gasp in much needed air, but there was fresh pain now, spreading through his side and across the back of his head and all he could do was curl up helplessly as he heard Akande moving towards him again, knowing that there was no way he could rise let alone fight. “Talon could’ve made you great.” Hanzo cried out as he was hauled up again, breath hitching as Akande’s face swam into view. _It’s over_. He made no effort to struggle, the world and Akande fading in and out of focus as fingers tightened against his throat once more. _Jesse._

“Hanzo!”

   Hanzo couldn’t breathe, everything slipping away from him as Akande’s grip intensified and let his eyes slip shut, admitting defeat. Saying goodbye. “Hanzo!” There was a faint tug at the edge of his awareness, a voice that shouldn’t have been there, but he couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t reply. _I’m…_ There was a feral snarl, a sound that made him want to flinch and recoil. Then the fingers were gone, and he was falling, unable to do anything to soften the impact with the ground. It hurt. Igniting parts of his body that he had forgotten had existed, but there was nothing he could do but lie there, everything throbbing, breath hitching as he struggled to draw in breath, each one ragged and sore.

   It was the familiar jingle of metal that finally roused him. A sound that shouldn’t have been there, not when they still had a mission to complete, not when Hanzo had been the one to be caught unawares. Not when he was dying. Yet, as close as he had been to letting himself slip under seconds before, now he found himself fighting to breathe, to open his eyes, to move. It felt like he was moving through molasses, his efforts hindered by the pain that seemed to intensify the closer he got to opening his eyes, but he didn’t let up, unable to as he heard the distinctive sounds of a struggle, grunts and thuds and a loud pained groan that filled him with fear. No.

   It felt like a lifetime before he managed to open his eyes, the world an indistinct blur of shadows and colours around him, spinning in a way that made his stomach twist and churn to the point where he thought he was going to lose control of it. It hurts. It was hard to focus on anything else, everything painful and heavy as he blinked, trying to focus, trying to breathe. _It_ … A flash of red and orange caught his attention, shapeless colours, but colours that hadn’t been there before and his fear blossomed into terror as he heard the jingle of metal spurs once more. _No_. Even as he tried to deny it, the world was coming slightly more into focus and there was no missing the familiar figure who had just rolled out of the path of Akande’s attack. _Jesse, run._

   He wanted to shout at McCree, tell him to run, tell him to leave him behind, but he couldn’t get the words out. And even as fresh terror gripped him as Akande seized hold of McCree’s serape and yanked him back, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief? Warmth? McCree had come for him…

   As much as he tried to follow the course of the fight, the world was fading in and out, the slightest effort to pull himself up being greeted with agony. At some point, he must have made a noise, despite having bitten his lip bloody to try and stop himself from distracting McCree, because there was the sharp retort of Peacekeeper, the shots forcing Akande back a few steps and then hurried footsteps as McCree lunged towards him. “Hanzo, stay still.” There were gentle fingers against his cheek, the emotion in the simple touch sincere this time, but it was all too fleeting as McCree whirled to face Akande once more, his voice dropping to a low snarl once more. “This will be over soon.”

“Agreed.” Hanzo blinked, gaze moving between McCree standing protectively over him and Akande who was moving in once more, stalking them and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering as dark eyes met his for a moment. _Run_ … He reached out, intending to say it this time no matter what it cost him, but McCree was gone, darting forward with a speed and skill that Hanzo could barely follow in his dazed state, watching uncomprehendingly as McCree seemed to dance around the larger man. He had seen this side of his partner before, in little dribs and drabs if the situation called for it, but it seemed to him that all pretence had been stripped from McCree, leaving behind someone who was almost a stranger.

“You think they’d let me into Blackwatch just because of my aim?” Almost, only McCree would joke like that against an opponent like Doomfist. Hanzo wanted to scold McCree for the boast, but he had to admit that it was well founded, struggling to follow McCree’s movements as he lunged at Akande once more, dancing in and out, barely seeming to avoid the gauntleted fist at times and yet coming away from most encounters unharmed. At some point a blow had caught him, there was blood leaking from his nose and his cheek was swelling rapidly, but it didn’t seem to faze him and Hanzo couldn’t help but be entranced by this side of his partner.

   Hanzo was slipping again, the world fading around him. He wanted to stay awake, to keep watching this side of McCree and to make sure that his partner was safe, but his eyes were no longer listening to his command, his body craving relief from the pain. _Jesse_ … There was dampness on his cheeks now and he wasn’t sure whether it was tears or blood, unable to do anything about it, his head falling to the side as he strained to hear the jingle of those ridiculous spurs one last time. Instead what he heard was something heavy landing nearby with a grunt, the familiar sound of pulse pistols followed by a giggle that no longer seemed out of place. There was more movement, angry voices rising as the sound of fighting moved away from where he was and then he heard the spurs, the sound coming towards him and something eased in his chest.

_Jesse._

“Hanzo!” Hanzo wished that he had the strength to at least open his eyes as he heard the frantic shout, even breathless from the fight, there was no missing the terror in McCree’s voice. But his eyes wouldn’t open, and this time when McCree’s voice came it barely reached him. “Hanzo, sweetheart….” He thought there were fingers against his cheek, something soft and warm moving to cushion him from the ground but he wasn’t sure, unable to hold on any longer and knowing he didn’t need to now.

_He was safe._


End file.
